The Billionaire’s Favorite Mistake

by Jessica Clare

  She unclenched her teeth from the corner of the pillow. “Asher,” she breathed out, his name turning into a little whimpery gasp when he kept licking her. “Asher, stop, please. I can’t take any more. I’m going to die if you make me keep coming.”

  His chuckle was pure male satisfaction. That was fine, let him be satisfied with himself. Job well-done. She certainly had no complaints. Her entire body felt like a nice, quivery puddle of well-licked goo. Her eyes closed and she ran her hands down her body as he set her thighs down and moved back up on the bed next to her. When she opened her eyes, his face was inches from hers, his lips reddened from his efforts.

  “Want to taste yourself on me, sexy?” His face was flushed and sweaty, but his eyes were bright and she could feel the jut of his cock against her side, as insistent as ever. And she wanted to please him, especially after the effort he’d gone through to shatter her entire world—twice now.

  So she lifted her mouth for a kiss, and when his tongue swept into her mouth and his hand caressed her face, holding her against him, Greer lost herself in the kiss. He tasted like Asher and . . . well, that musky taste had to be her own. A blush scalded through her, though she didn’t know why.

  He nipped at her lower lip and then began to press small, attentive kisses to her face. “I’m the luckiest man alive right now, Greer.”

  “Mmm.” She was the most boneless woman alive.

  He lifted one of her arms and placed her hand against the back of his neck, indicating that he wanted her to hold on to him. She did, and he stroked his hand down her arm, caressing her skin, and then moving lower to tease her breast. Her nipples responded instantly, and to her surprise, another hot, dark surge of pleasure moved through her tired body.

  “My Greer,” Asher murmured, and then his big body settled on top of her. He pressed another light kiss to her mouth, and then his hand slid to her thigh, pulling her legs apart so he could settle in between them. A moment later, she felt the hard press of his cock against her pussy.

  His mouth claimed hers in another deep, intense kiss even as he pushed into her.

  Greer gasped against his lips, startled. It didn’t hurt, but she’d been unprepared for the intense feeling of fullness, of stretching. Of possession. Of being completely owned by him.

  “Did I hurt you?” His tongue flicked against her upper lip, as if coaxing her.

  “I’m fine,” she breathed.

  “Then can I move?” He nudged his hips and she felt him press deeper into her, and she realized that he wasn’t quite in all the way yet. At her nod, he moved his hips against her again, and the feeling of pressure and fullness continued to grow until she felt as if she were being impaled by something much larger than the cock she’d handled earlier.

  But then he paused and began to kiss her again, pressing his lips over her face, her neck, and her ear over and over again. After a few moments, the tight feeling went away, but the sensation of being owned?

  She felt that more than ever.

  He pushed into her again, a small stab, and she made a soft noise in her throat. The sensation of him thrusting into her was like that night in the gardens, except . . . not. This time, there was no invasive feeling, no uncomfortable rasp of dry flesh shoving into hers. She was wet and slick and when he stroked into her again, it felt good deep inside her belly. He began to pump slowly into her, his movements careful and his gaze on her face, watching for her reactions.

  And she? Well, she wasn’t quite sure what to do. So she ran her hands over his biceps and tried not to blush as he stared down at her with that intense, possessive look on his face as he stroked his cock into her. “Should I be doing more?” She asked after a moment.

  His laugh was harsh, brief, as if he were about to lose his breath. “I think if you did any more, I’d bust my nut too early.” He buried his face against her neck, and when his tongue brushed against her skin, that ripple of pleasure returned to her body, and when he thrust once more, it seemed to ripple even deeper inside her. Oh. She wanted more of that. Her arms tightened around him and she gingerly lifted one hip, trying to meet his next thrust, to increase the friction between them.

  “That’s right, sweetheart,” he gritted. His hand went to her hip, and then he was holding her against him, at the angle he wanted. When he thrust into her again, it was harder than before, but it also hit her body in different spots. Again, that elusive ripple of pleasure returned to her belly. “Fuck, you are hot, Greer. I want you to come with me.”

  She nodded, but when he started to thrust harder, that ripple didn’t return. Was she doing something wrong? Her brows creased with worry, and she held tighter to him as he pounded into her. It felt good, but it wasn’t the intense explosion like before when he’d slipped his fingers through her wet folds. It was more elusive, and she’d be damned if she knew how to find it. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to,” she told him, smoothing her hands over his shoulders. A fine sheen of sweat had broken out on his gorgeous body, and she couldn’t stop touching him. She wanted his weight bearing her down, covering her. She wanted to run her tongue all over him and watch him lose control. But that could wait for another day. “Don’t worry about me,” she whispered. “I already came twice.”

  A growl escaped his throat. “Fuck that.” He pressed a quick, hard kiss to her mouth. “Get ready for number three.”

  “Asher, I don’t—”

  His hand moved between them, and then she felt his thumb push between her folds, sliding down to rest against her clit. Her voice died because in the next moment, he thrust.

  And she felt everything like a rocket-blast through her body. All the pleasure from earlier, plus the deep ripple inside her belly? It returned full force and she clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders.

  “That’s right,” he rasped in her ear. “You fucking take that pleasure, sweetheart. It’s all yours.”

  All she could do was cry out his name and cling to him as another orgasm exploded through her, fierce and instant. Every movement of his hips, every thrust of his cock pressed his thumb against her sensitized clit, and made her body explode with sensation. She lost all sense of where she was. Her world didn’t exist beyond the hard, spearing thrust of Asher’s body into hers, the maddening rub of his thumb against her clit, and his skin and voice all around her. She might have been biting his shoulder and crying out things like yes and please and more and right there and oh fuck, but it all sort of blurred together. He pounded into her furiously and she loved every moment of it, even when she was screaming his name.

  And then, somewhere in that blurry abyss of pleasure, he stiffened against her and called her name out. And he murmured something like love and mine and then she felt his entire body tremble with the force of his orgasm. He pressed between her thighs hard, body stiff, and she clasped him against her and licked at the skin she’d bitten, and then he collapsed on top of her, and oh, mercy, it felt incredible. His weight on top of her was almost as much of an aphrodisiac as anything else. She loved it.

  Eventually he sucked in a deep breath, and then exhaled. “Damn, sweetheart.”

  Yeah, she kind of felt like that, too. Wrung out. Depleted. Replete. Awed. All of the above.

  He turned his face to hers and pressed a few quick kisses on her mouth. “Let me get a wet towel so I can clean you up. Be right back.”

  And then he was pulling his gloriously damp, sweaty body off of hers, and she felt a keen sense of loss. He could have stayed collapsed on top of her forever and she wouldn’t have minded. Because in that moment? It was just him and her, and it had felt as if he belonged to Greer and no one else.

  She’d loved it. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was for it until it had disappeared again.

  But he returned a moment later, his big body flushed, his cock still reddish and stiff. She propped up on her elbows, frowning. “Did you . . . did you not . . .” She
let the question trail off.

  Asher looked down and then grinned at her. “Well, that’s flattering—for a change, I might add, since you love to stomp my ego.” He winked and toweled himself off. “But it takes a few minutes for the works to go down. Doesn’t deflate like a balloon.”

  “Oh. Of course not.” How silly of her to even ask.

  She made a noise that was more of a meep than anything else when he pushed her thighs open. But he wasn’t going to try and wring a fourth orgasm out of her, it seemed. He gently cleaned her thighs and sex free of her juices and his own leavings. And that was kind of sweet . . . and it was weird that she was disappointed that there was no fourth orgasm on the horizon. Because really, she wasn’t sure if she could take another.

  But her body seemed damn willing to try.

  Once she was cleaned up, he tossed the towel into a hamper and then slid back into bed. Asher pulled Greer against him and spooned her body against his. His mouth went to the side of her neck and he pressed a few idle kisses there, and his hand went to one of her breasts, cupping it as if to say I own this. And again, she didn’t mind that at all. At this moment? She liked being owned and possessed by him.

  “Greer, sweetheart?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Remember when you asked if I was either a liar or in love?”

  Vaguely. Her mind was pretty mushy at the moment. “Mmm?”

  “Did you decide which one it was?”

  She thought for a moment. Her heart ached at the thought, but she willed it silent. “Pretty sure you’re a liar.” She felt him stiffen against her, and felt as if she’d said the wrong thing. Like she’d hurt his feelings. And that . . . sucked.

  He hurt you, too. You can’t forget that just because he gave you one night of good sex. You have to be stronger than that.

  She didn’t want to be, though. She wanted to go back to the starry-eyed girl who loved a wonderful man, even if he’d never noticed her. Because back then, she’d have done anything for Asher and she’d have never hurt him for the world.

  “I don’t lie about everything, you know,” he said after a moment, and then smoothed her hair aside so he could kiss her ear.

  “Mmhmm,” she murmured, unwilling to commit to a response. Seemed like everything she said hurt him one way or another.

  “Like when I said I’d have you screaming my name when you came? That definitely wasn’t a lie.” He nipped at her ear. “Though the biting was a nice plus. I could do with more of that.”

  Greer smiled and turned around in his arms to bite him again. Maybe on his nipples. Maybe there was room for a fourth orgasm after all. “Is it time for me to have my wicked way with you, then?”

  “Have mercy, woman. Let a man catch his breath.” But the gleam of challenge in his eyes told her that he wouldn’t need long. This was good. Playful Asher was good. Playful Asher couldn’t be hurt by what she said—or didn’t say.

  She’d just have to coax Playful Asher to the forefront a bit more.

  Chapter 11

  Greer woke up, completely disoriented, to light kisses on her neck and shoulder, and familiar fingers teasing her nipple.

  “Morning,” Asher murmured, pulling her closer to him.

  “What time is it?” She smoothed her hands down his arms, fighting a yawn. He’d kept her up late last night, and she wasn’t quite alert yet.

  “Sometime after nine.” He thumbed her nipple even as he leaned in to kiss her again.

  She should have been back in Vegas already. Her phone was probably blowing up, and she’d missed her meetings, and her tight timeline was going to be shortened by another crucial day she didn’t have and . . . she didn’t care. Asher’s mouth covered hers and when he pressed between her thighs, she opened for him and didn’t think twice about phones or her father’s wedding.

  It was well over an hour later by the time they’d made love again and Greer had showered. She was still yawning as she wrapped a towel around her hair. “I don’t suppose you have a charter plane on call, do you, Asher?” she called out from the bathroom, rubbing a hand on the mirror to see her reflection. “I really should head back soon. I’ve got a million things to do.”

  Even as she said the words, she hated them. For a brief, shining moment, she didn’t want to go back to Vegas. Heck, she didn’t even want to return to her own cozy apartment here in the city. She wanted to crawl right back into bed with Asher. It didn’t even matter if they had sex again (though she was certainly game for it if they did). She just wanted to spend time with him, and to touch him and have him touch her back. To feel like someone in a relationship instead of a woman whose normally quiet life seemed to be coming apart at the seams.

  Greer pulled the towel off her hair and stared at her reflection. She wore no makeup, and her face was a little raw around the corners of her mouth from kissing—and stubble burn. Her hair was a tangled, wet mess, and her eyes were red from lack of sleep. But she knew that Asher found her sexy. Strange and impossible, but would he be trying so hard if he didn’t?

  She realized that she hadn’t heard his response to her question about the charter plane, and wrapped the towel tighter around her body and peeked out of the bathroom. “Ash?”

  He had his laptop in bed, amidst the tangle of covers, and was typing furiously. An intense frown of concentration marred his face.

  “Ash?” she asked again.

  He looked up at her. “What? Sorry. It’s just . . .” he rubbed a hand down his face and groaned. “More work shit. My new CEO has no balls. He wants to schedule another meeting with the department heads in EMEA.”

  “EMEA?”

  “Europe, Middle East, and Africa. It’s not necessary but he’s emailing me wanting to make sure I’m on board with things.” His head went back as if he was staring up at the ceiling, but his eyes were closed. It was the posture of someone completely defeated. “I’m going to have to be here for another day. Maybe two.”

  “Oh.” She was disappointed, of course, but she understood. Sometimes business called, and he had a billion-dollar multinational corporation. “Of course. Don’t worry about the charter plane thing. I’ll just fly coach. Or something.”

  “Wait, what? You’re leaving?” He leaped from the bed, and she saw he was still as naked as when she’d left him. Her cheeks pinked at his naked body approaching her, and Asher put his arms around Greer and nuzzled her neck. “I don’t want you to go.”

  She chuckled. “I don’t want to go, either, but I’ve really and truly got a ton of work to do.”

  Asher didn’t release her. He slid his hands down her back and cupped her ass. “What kind of work?”

  “Well, I have a lot of meetings—”

  His face lit up. “I have this thing called a phone and a laptop. You’re free to borrow them . . . and stay in my bed.”

  Greer rolled her eyes . . . but the idea wasn’t a bad one. There were a lot of meetings and fiddly things to be done, but she had her notes in her email and her email was on her phone, and her laptop was in her bag. She could work remotely and just catch up on things tomorrow. Theoretically. There wasn’t a way for anyone to catch up at this rate, but the lure of staying in New York—and in his bed—was awfully tempting. “I’m not sure . . .”

  “Stay,” he insisted, his hands moving over her skin. “I’ll take you into my office and show you around the digs. We can go have lunch together. And then we can come back here and I can have you for dessert.”

  “That is the worst line,” she teased.

  “Ah, but is it effective?”

  It seemed it was, because she decided to stay.

  ***

  The rest of the day was busy, but wonderful. He made her breakfast as she ironed her sad, wrinkled blouse and slacks and put them back on. At least she lived in the same city, and not too far from his apartment. They could run over and grab her a chang
e of clothing before heading into his office. After breakfast, they cabbed out to her apartment, changed clothing, and then headed downtown. Greer typed emails and texted responses frantically with every spare moment, but she didn’t regret her decision to stay, no matter how much Bunni and Tiffi were freaking out because Greer wasn’t there to answer questions about fittings and test-makeup in person.

  At Asher’s office—OutSource Everything—things were quiet but busy. He led her into a conference room next to his office and brought her a laptop so she could work while he attended a meeting. After the meeting was done, they regrouped to head to lunch, and Greer found herself giggling into her soup and sandwich as Asher told her a frustrating anecdote from the meeting itself. It seemed that Asher had been running things for so long that he didn’t know how to pass control off to his new CEO—something she pointed out to him. The man kept going back to Asher because Asher had never given him full control and constantly stepped in to handle situations. He didn’t like hearing it, but he didn’t disagree with her, either.

  After lunch, he brought her back to his office, and Greer’s thorny heart softened a little when he reached for her hand, holding it as they got into the elevator together. “You want a tour of the place?” he asked.

  There was such boyish enthusiasm in his face, how could she possibly deny him? “Of course.”

  So they toured the building, from the cafeteria on the first floor to the human resources department, to the call center that was buzzing with incoming calls. The place was busy but organized, and it was clear to Greer as they walked through department after department that Asher knew every inch of the company. He’d put in endless hours to make the place a success, and it was finally paying off for him.